


fur pelts and wheat fields

by BitterlySpiteful



Series: furr [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Drama, Fantasy, M/M, Mild Gore, Monster Hunters, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Supernatural Elements, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 16:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17901521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterlySpiteful/pseuds/BitterlySpiteful
Summary: Isaac is tasked with the impossible: keep his Pa's farm running with only one hand. He's determined but still struggling. So he takes a chance with a newcomer in town, invites him to stay so long as he helps out. Strange as Kydas may be, with the fur pelts constantly wrapped around his shoulders, he's willing to lend a much-needed hand.It's really a shame that the animals all hate him.





	1. wild one

**Author's Note:**

> but really, guys, can there not be just one werewolf story that doesn't include gross shit? cmon now.

He meets the newcomer at the tavern, sometime in the beginning of winter. It's not too cold out, but the first frost had happened a while ago. So, given that he had a short time off, except for taking care of the animals, he'd gone straight to the bar. He'd sat down at his usual spot, ordered his usual drink, and then had turned to the unusual customer and had asked his name.

“You can call me, um, Kydas,” he says, looking sideways at him with a somewhat wary grin as he tilts his almost-empty glass back and forth. “Yours, farm boy?”

He grunts what could be a laugh and sips his bourbon and says, “Isaac. Haven’t seen you ‘round here before. You new in town?”

“Eh, I’m a wanderer.” Kydas shrugs, making his large fur pelt slide off. He hastily pulls it up, tucking it closer to his chest. “Decided to try and get a free bed tonight, but the damn innkeeper’s an old cad.”

“Don’t let ‘im here you,” Isaac mutters, peering over at said innkeeper, who is berating a couple of more rowdy customers at a booth table. “He’ll boot yer ass outta this place.”

Kydas laughs, something that sounds more like barking, then shakes his head. “Wouldn’t that be my luck?”

Isaac glances at the guy again, taking in amber eyes and the brown, long hair tied back in a loose knot. Long hair isn't common down here in Wilfront; Isaac, himself, has only seen it on women. Kinda strange on a man, but he ain't one to judge. “So what brings ya down here?”

“What do you mean?” Kydas looks elsewhere. His drink, or the posters on the wall, or the alcohol bottles lined behind the bar.

“Well, not many people ‘round here wear those animal furs, and your... hair is long. Kinda warm for those things.”

Kydas shrugs again, unconsciously gripping the fur pelt. “Eh, you’re right. I’m from up north, a good seven-month journey or so. Decided to see the countryside, you know?”

Isaac decides to just take the stranger’s story as truth and finishes his whiskey. He sets the glass down so he can pull coins from his pouch with his good hand. “Well, be careful with people ‘round here. They’ll take that for a pretty penny, or they’ll just fucken take it.”

“Good to know,” Kydas mutters, glancing around. He sniffs and finishes his own glass, dropping it to the bar, then adding a few coins to the counter as well. “But I should probably get going. If people are that bad around here, I might as well get gone. Soon. I’ll probably make it to the next town over by sunrise.”

Isaac takes a moment to think as Kydas slides from the stool, shouldering his fur pelt. It seems to be the only thing he has on him, aside from the small pouch hanging by his hip. “See you again someday, Isaac, thanks for the chit chat,” he calls over his shoulder, taking his leave.

He swears under his breath and spins on the barstool, watching as the man shoves open the wooden door. The chilled breeze from outside wafts in. Sighing, Isaac glances down at his hands — one of them fake — and tells himself not to go after the guy.

Knee bouncing in its spot, he manages to stay sitting for maybe... a minute, or two. Then he drops off the stool, grabs his coat and slings it over his shoulder, and hurries out after him.

It doesn’t take long to catch up to the stranger. Kydas is standing out at the news board, looking over wanted posters, for help, and for criminals. “Alright, alright,” he says, jogging up to him. How he got out this far in under a few minutes, Isaac doesn’t get. He shrugs it off. “You convinced me.”

“What do you mean?” Kydas looks genuinely confused and Isaac laughs, leaning an elbow against the board, crinkling a wanted poster for some lone rider.

“You’re sayin’ that wasn’t you tryin’ to get a bed tonight?” Isaac asks, and Kydas looks away, probably to hide his red face.

“Well, no, I- That wasn’t it at all. I thought we were just having a pleasant chat.” One hand leaves the furs to scratch at his eye. “But, if you’re offering...”

“The next town over’s full of assholes, even worse than this one. I ain’t a dick. You can spend the night at my place, so long as you don’t mind the couch.”

Kydas grins at him, amber eyes glinting gold in the moonlight. “Well,” he says, and tugs the fur closer, grinning slightly. “Since you’re volunteering.”

The walk home is made in companionable silence. Isaac only pauses a few times to drag out his box of matches from his bag and relight some of the oil torches. "So where you from?" he asks, waving the match to put it out, then dropping it on the gravel path. Kydas glances up at the stars, then says, "North of here, I guess. Last town I stopped at was, uh, Glio? I think that's what it was called."

"Glio, huh? Pretty far from here. I've only met a couple of people from there." A couple of weeks' travel, in fact. And separated by a small mountain range. Isaac shakes his head at the thought of crossing those. The things you can find in those ravines... It'd give any man nightmares.

"It was a nice town," Kydas says, still not meeting Isaac's eyes. Their footsteps are the only sound for a few moments until Kydas continues. "Bigger than this one."

"Yeah, most people stay there once they get there." He remembers the few conversations he's had about the town. And again shakes his head, tssking. "Don't blame 'em. Hard to get past those damn mountains, 'specially with all the creatures in there."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad. The mountains are... familiar, to me." So, Kydas was from a mountainous town, like Glio? Isaac can't recall any mountain towns built any closer to ranges than that town is. Probably some remote village that isn't on any map.

"Well, good to hear. Not many people get outta that alive." Isaac pauses to listen to the howling of a coyote, but Kydas whips his head toward it. What, he can brave mountain monsters, but is scared of wild dogs? "Ain't seen a coyote before?"

"No, that's..." Kydas pauses, listening again as it howls, long and deep. "That's a wolf."

Isaac stops as well and looks out where Kydas is. "We don't get wolves 'round here. Why would they-"

"Let's just keep going." Before Isaac can say anything else, Kydas hurries forward. "Better to be inside when those things are out."

He couldn't agree more. Coyotes, he can manage. They scare off pretty easy once you make enough noise. Wolves? He's never really had to deal with them. So they make the rest of the walk back in silence, with the distant howling to keep them in a rush.

 

When they pass the first fence post, Isaac lets out a sigh of relief. The traveling torches had long since dropped off the path; civilization needs them, but the town mayor never really thought it was necessary to put them all the way out where his farmhouse is. He'd put some up himself, but he never really was out late. So it didn't matter all that much.

The howling had long since stopped, but it didn't make him feel any safer. Whatever that wolf was howling to... It either found what it wanted or gave up. But Kydas says it only sounds like there's one of them, so Isaac counts his blessings.

"Nice place," Kydas says as they approach the house. A few trees grow around it, to block the wind. But all around them are fields. Corn and wheat, both already plowed and empty. The pastures lay closer to the house itself; he'd left the grass in that long enough to feed grazing animals, but no longer. 

The gravel path turns to dirt as they get closer to the front porch. "Yeah, I try to keep up with it. Lots of land and not much help." He waves his stump as if to explain the general clutter laying across the grounds. Tools, uneven grass, the works. He doesn't mind much. It's not like he gets visitors.

He can tell Kydas isn't sure whether or not to laugh and he stands there awkwardly as Isaac unlocks the front door. "It was a joke," Isaac grunts, and shoves the old door open. He still needs to fix the frame, swollen after so many storms and years. "Laugh."

At this, Kydas does, stepping into the dark house after Isaac.

He pitches the keys onto the dining table, and his shoes under it. "I don't have an extra bed, 'less you wanna sleep in the basement like I did as a kid. But the couch is good 'nough."

"Oh, yeah, no, that's plenty. I thought I would be sleeping outside, anyway." Kydas clutches at his furs and drifts to the living room, looking around the joined rooms. The house  _really_ isn't that much. The main room, containing the kitchen, dining table, and living space all in one area, is the biggest spot in the place. Then to the right of the front door is a short hallway, with the bedroom and the basement stairs across from each other. 

"Wash basin is outside," Isaac says, sparking an oil lamp to give them some light. "A bit late for a bath, but you can use it in the morning. Can't imagine how you keep clean, travelin' 'round."

"Mostly rivers," Kydas answers, and gently sits on the couch. Isaac goes over to drop the oil lamp on the short table for him to have.

"But I'm beat," Isaac says, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. Hell, what was he thinking, letting a stranger stay over? "So I'm gonna hit the sack. I always got an early day here, but feel free to sleep in."

"Oh, uh, thanks." Kydas looks around again, then gives him a smile. "And thank you for letting me spend the night. I do appreciate it."

"It ain't a problem. Lonely 'round here." He gives a last goodnight and heads for his own room, lighting a candle at the bedside table. Ma had always told him to feed a guest properly, with all three meals. But it's late, so he figures Kydas had already eaten supper. So... breakfast it'll be, he guesses.

Shucking his clothes onto the floor, Isaac drops into the mattress, making the bedframe creak unhappily. Just as he's blowing out the candle, another long, lonely howl echoes from outside.

 

Isaac wakes up to the sound of the water pump. He blinks groggily and glances around, first taking note of the dim light coming in from the open window. He groans, stretching out on the bed, hands gripping the iron bars of the headboard for a moment before he relaxes, dropping back.

Who could be using the wash basin? He struggles to think for a moment, before bolting upright. Shit, fuck, that’s right. He let that newcomer, Kydas, stay the night. Cursing himself for being a horrible host — his mom raised him better than that, damn it — he scrambles out of bed.

Tugging on the pair of jeans he’d worn the day before, and the one before that, he hurries to the dresser, shuffling through it for a clean shirt.

But he can’t find one, so he grabs the one that smells the best off the floor. Grabbing his belt and boots from beside the bedroom door, he hurries out to the kitchen, glancing over at the living room. Sure enough, there’s a blanket neatly folded over the back. At least Kydas is a good _guest_. Isaac can’t say the same for himself. He usually leaves a mess whenever he spends the night at someone’s house, and is usually too hungover to clean it up.

Muttering something about neat freaks, he goes for the kitchen, swinging open the fridge. Breakfast first. Then take care of the animals. Make sure the horses aren’t unhappy — what, with the surprise pregnancy that he _hadn’t planned_. Fuck. He’s gonna have to figure out something for that calf; winter’s coming soon, as is the baby.

But for now. Breakfast. Then he’ll feed the animals, let the cows and horses out to roam, and maybe skin that damn fox that’s been getting into the chicken coop.

But for now, breakfast.

 

By the time Kydas finishes washing up, Isaac’s almost done with cooking. He’s not the best cook, but it’s something.

The newcomer announces his arrival with, “You got a fox problem?”

Isaac snorts and glances over, figuring he’d seen the coop from the water basin. “Yeah. Damn thing keeps gettin’ into my chickens. Already killed a handful of ‘em.”

Kydas hums and sits down at the table, letting his pelt drape over the back of the chair. It’s almost weird to see him without it wrapped around his shoulders. Surprisingly, he’s got _another_ damn pelt, but it’s smaller, tied in a sash around his waist. A reddish-brown, probably an old fox or something. Hell, maybe the guy’s a hunter. It would explain how he can travel around without many coins on him.

“I’ve set up traps,” Isaac continues, pulling out plates from the cabinets. He sets them on the table, one in front of Kydas. Goes to grab the frying pan and slides two of the eggs onto his plates. “But it either knows what the fucken things are, or it keeps gettin’ out of them.”

Kydas momentarily reaches for the eggs with his hands, then pauses and glances around for a fork. Weird. “Well, have you tried sitting out there with a shotgun?”

“Can’t do shotguns, man,” Isaac says, waving the stump he has for a left arm. “Revolvers, maybe, at the most.”

He hears the chair squeak slightly. Kydas must not have noticed last night. Well, he ain’t gonna put on that stupid prosthetic in his own home. He’s only had to pick up a gun three times since he got back from that damn civil war.

Kydas is silent until Isaac eventually drops some bacon on his plate and gives him a fork. “Don’t look that way. I get along fine without it.”

“No, no, I wasn’t thinking...” Caught, Kydas shakes his head, and picks up his fork. For a second it looks like he doesn’t know how to hold it. “Uh, I just- How the hell do you take care of this farm, then?”

“I didn’t, until a little under a year ago. It was my Pa’s, but both he and Ma passed. Handed it over to me, wanted it to be taken care of, y’know?’ He drops into his own chair, hoping the food would help with his slight headache.

“Oh, I’m- I’m sorry.” Kydas stabs at his eggs, but doesn’t seem awkward. “I... lost my mom when I was young. I know how it is.”

“We should start a club,” Isaac says, trying to be light. He hadn't been... _terribly_ close to Ma, but Pa’s death had followed shortly after, and with them being so close together...

He shakes his head and moves on, eating between words. “Well, y’know, I could always use the help. And with winter comin’, I doubt you wanna be out travelin’.”

Kydas looks like he might say something, but eventually, he nods, shrugs, and says, “Yeah, sure, I’ll help around. I know a bit about animals.”

 

Turns out, animals don’t like Kydas.

The first time Isaac takes him into the barn, the horses go nuts, spooking and bashing around in their stalls. Kydas looks guilty for a second.

“Maybe it’s the furs,” Isaac tells him, trying to sooth the expecting mare. She snorts in fear, ears pinned back and eyes wide and wild. Her stomping promises pain, so Isaac doesn’t dare go in the stall.

“Oh, right.” He sounds reluctant but leaves the barn for a moment. When he returns, he’s without the both of them, and he looks bare. He’s dressed simply, with strange, tight clothes Isaac’s never really seen. Maybe it’s just a northerner thing.

The horses seem calmer, after that, but they’re still uneasy. Damn. He was hoping for Kydas to make a good first impression. Isaac doubts any of them will let the guy close.

“This one’s Ma’s,” Isaac says, figuring he’d at least change the subject, try and get some of the tension out of Kydas’ shoulders. “Name’s Lucy.”

“She’s expecting?” Kydas asks, peering over the stall door. Lucy snorts and backs away, tossing her head. “Isn’t it a bit late in the year?”

“Dumbass will give birth sometime soon,” Isaac mutters, patting her cheek. He drops down from the wooden boards and motions for Kydas to follow. “Wasn’t my idea.”

“I can tell.” Kydas follows him up to the loft, looking around at the blocks of hay. Isaac is already going to haul one over the side, all too used to getting the chores done and over with. “Do me a favor,” he calls, “Push a few more over.”

Work gets done quickly, that day. Kydas seems to pick up on things quite easily. And, despite the fact that _all_ the animals, including the sweet old milking cow, seem to _hate_ him, he still tries.

So, maybe Isaac won’t let him around the animals alone. That could spell disaster for both ends of the party. (He just met the guy, but he really doesn’t like the image of Kydas getting stomped into the mud by a pissed off stallion.) But he’ll be a great help in the fields. Those are probably the hardest things for Isaac to do on his own. Too many tasks that really need two hands to finish in a timely manner.

So, yeah, he’s looking forward to that. And Kydas could probably help with fixing up the silo — something other than a fox has been getting into that, as well.

Isaac tells all this to Kydas over a simple baked bean lunch. Despite the nice day — one of the warmer days, really — Kydas still has the pelt wrapped around him. But he doesn’t seem put off by the workload. He honestly seems as if he’s looking forward to it. Hell, Isaac would be too, if he’d been out in the wild for the past seven months with nothin' to do but survive. But come to think of it, Kydas hadn’t really said how long he’d been traveling, just that his home was seven months away.

So Isaac asks, scooping up the last of the baked beans from his can. The question must have startled Kydas, because there’s silence for a long time. Isaac’s about to shrug it off, tell him that it doesn’t matter, when Kydas says, “Since I was fourteen. Ran away.”

“Damn,” Isaac says before he can stop himself. He looks over at the guy. “And how old are you now?”

“Late twenty-something. Maybe thirty,” Kydas says, shrugging. “I don’t keep count. You?”

“Ehh, thirty-one.” Isaac sets his can to the side, humming thoughtfully. “So you been out on your own for that long? Hell, man, how did you do it? I don’t know anyone who can survive the winter out on their own.”

“I have my ways.” Kydas plucks at the coarse furs on the pelt. Now that Isaac thinks about it, he’s not sure _what_ kind of animal that came from. Can’t be a dog; it’s too big. And the coloring... Hell, maybe the kid’s wrestling wolves. Or a very, _very_ big coyote.

“Well, however you do it, I’m fucken impressed.” Isaac stands, groaning as he does. Damn back, damn legs. Kydas thinks for a moment, then gets up as well. Isaac’s learning that he’s kinda quiet like that. Between the two of them, Isaac’s probably done most of the talking all day. He doesn’t know too much about the newcomer.

Not that Isaac _minds_ , really, because nobody in the town will even step close to his farmhouse, and it’s not like he thinks too highly of anyone there, either. So he’s... You know, somewhat lonely. Animals for company only go so far.

But for now, back to work. He’ll think about that shit later.

 

“How does it get in?" Kydas asks, pacing around the barbed-wire fence Isaac had to put up around the chicken coop. Damn good it did, since the fox still manages to get through.

"Well, originally it clawed a hole in the coop." Isaac tosses more feed down, wading through the flock of fat birds. He comes to the feeder in the coop, maneuvering the bag in his bad arm and pouring it into the tub. "Then it dug under the fence, once I put that up."

He looks over to find Kydas testing the fence, wiggling it and kicking at the ground. He finds the most recent hole and squats down, looking over it, then out across the fields, to the woods. "Have you found its den yet?"

Isaac snorts and shakes his head. "No time to. 'Sides, I ain't much of a tracker."

He takes a moment to come back to the fence, dropping the bag on the other side. He'll have to go to town to get more soon. He thinks for a second, a thought coming to mind. "Say, can you help?"

"What do you mean?" Kydas looks up from the tracks all around the hole, eyebrow rising.

"You're a hunter, ain't ya? How else you gonna survive out there alone?" Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Kydas was just  _lucky_. 

"Oh, uh, yeah. I can help." Kydas stands up, brushing dirt from the edges of his furs. "Give me a couple of days and she'll be gone."

"She?" He hadn't given the gender of the damn critter much thought.

Kydas glances at the tracks as if looking for an explanation. "I mean, it's a guess. Probably a mom getting food for her kits."

Makes sense. "Wish she'd find some other place to hunt, then. I can't afford to lose my last rooster."

Isaac unlatches the gate and steps through, pushing a stray chicken back inside with his foot. Kydas stands, brushing dirt from the furs. Isaac thinks of asking about them but decides to brush it off. They're just furs, no matter how large or strange. Probably some trophy or something. Probably makes a great story, but Kydas just seems to reserved to really say anything about it.

So yeah, Isaac can wait to hear about them.

 

Over dinner that night, though, as Kydas is scarfing down the pork chop as if it's the first food he's had in a long time, Isaac asks, "So, where you been, other than Glio?"

"Oh, uh." Kydas pauses long enough to grab for the cloth napkin, wiping his face to look more presentable. Isaac knows he's got his own grease spots on his shirt and chin from eating. He really doesn't care. "Well, before Glio, I'd gone to look for- Well, there were rumors of a witch in Willowpoint."

"Really? A witch?" Hell, maybe the guy's an actual _H_ _unter_. He hasn't seen any silver or protective wards on him, though. Maybe it's in the pelt. Now Isaac is really rethinking his decision not to ask about those furs.

"Well, yes," Kydas glances left, then back to Isaac. "The rumors led to this little forest on the outskirts of the town. There were traces of her, but I didn't find any actual witch."

"Why were you even looking for her?" Isaac asks, trying to put the question on the table as a light one. But it's loaded; it's the moment of truth. Any sane man wouldn't seek out a witch, unless they were desperate. Or unless they were a Hunter.

But at Kydas' silence, Isaac has to hold in a sigh. Right, okay, he invited an insane person into his home. "I'm looking for my mother," he says at length and sets his fork down to look Isaac in the eye. The steady fierceness in them makes him squirm. 

"But a witch?" His question trails off. Kydas grips the edge of the table, as if he's about to push away from his plate, as if he's ready to run. "No, don't- Don't worry. You seem sane 'nough to me, but... A  _witch_?"

"I've tried everything else." So desperate, yes. Mad? Eh, Isaac really can't tell. "I... I know she isn't dead."

Lost his mother, then? Isaac really needs to update their dictionaries on what 'lost' meant. But he stays carefully quiet, still trying to think it over. After a long, long time, he sighs and resumes eating. "Those pelts, then. Where'd ya get them?"

"That-" Kydas grips the edge of the fur, where Isaac can see what looks like the remains of a paw. Those claws that are hidden in the fur folds... He shudders. "From some trader. Just... A merchant."

"Right." He doesn't believe it, but it's obvious that Kydas doesn't want to speak about anything else. After eating in silence for a long few minutes, Kydas takes a breath, as if steadying himself, and then changes the subjects. Do they let the horses and cows back in at night, or do they stay outside?

Thankful to talk about something Isaac knows about, he humors the guy. But their new conversation still lingers with that awkward air. Isaac really tries not to think about the newest revelations. Kydas has got some bones in his basement. Ones that he obviously doesn't want to be dug up.

So Isaac humors him and stops thinking about witches and missing mothers.

 

Kydas stays another night. Isaac offers, and tells him that he's welcome to stay through the winter, as well. The corn husks had been thicker this year 'round, and Isaac knows a couple of woodpeckers sharing a tree outside. Winter is going to be horrible, and he's not cruel. Sending Kydas out into a harsh winter is murder, no matter how accustomed to the wild the man seems to be.

The traveler looks thankful and gives him a quick bow before going to make his bed on the couch again. Ignoring the weird bow, Isaac wishes him a good night and retires to his own room.

That's when the howling starts. At first, Isaac tries to ignore it. It sounds more like a coyote this time around, higher and wailing and barking. But when it delves off into...  _cackling_ he turns over and rummages through his bedside table drawer. Pulling out the box of matches, he lights the oil lamp with a quick strike and kicks his legs over the edge of the bed.

He goes out to the living room to find Kydas at the window, nearly vibrating with energy. 

"Hey," Isaac whispers, but the man doesn't move. "Look, if it gets any fucken closer, we'll..."

His words die on his lips as he approaches the window. The moon is bright, a waxing gibbous, shining down on the empty fields. 

Except they're not empty. Something stands before the woods, hunched and lurching around like a wounded animal. Isaac can feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Whatever it is, it's not  _human_. No man would walk like that, all leaning forward as if it would rather be on four paws than two. "Holy f-"

Kydas slaps his hand over his mouth, turning so Isaac can see the finger he's pressing to his own lips. He shakes his head and looks back out. Isaac swallows and thanks god that he'd had the sense to bring the animals back in the barn. 

The two of them stand there, frozen, watching as the thing breaks off into a run. Isaac has the urge to reach for a gun, or an iron poker, or  _something_ , because god damn that thing runs  _fast_. Any doubt of it being a human is instantly erased from his mind. Something on a basic, instinctive level tells him he needs to hide, and  _soon_.

But Kydas has a grip on his arm that could match iron. "Isaac," he says quietly, so very quietly, "Put the lantern out."

At first, Isaac wants to protest. Light equals safety, as far as the creatures in the dark are concerned. But then again, Kydas braved the mountains and came out alive. Hunter or not, Isaac will listen to him when it comes to this shit. So he slowly, carefully, brings the lantern up, and blows it out.

The darkness is immediate. The only light is the moon, a half-open eye watching warily as the thing rushes through the fields. It's going left, away from the farm buildings, but then it stops, and Isaac can make out the general outline of its dark head as it rises from where it had been hunched between its shoulders.

His skin crawls. He thinks he might heave.

Because it's  _looking_ at them. Isaac just knows it. He feels watched as if that thing can see all the way to the house and through the window.

Kydas  _growls_ , bristling like a dog raising its hackles. But he doesn't move. Just stares out, eyes glowing gold in the pale moonlight. And for a long, long time, the three of them stand still. Then the thing lowers back down, mostly obscuring itself in the grasses. It takes another moment to stare at them.

And then it turns, and runs back into the woods.


	2. I am death, come to take the soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from 'O Death' by Kate Mann. (yeah i don't know the original writer, there's so many versions. this one is my favorite, though.)

Isaac groans and wakes up to the smell of bacon. He blinks groggily, stretching out for a second before relaxing. A couple of days with Kydas living with him, and he's stopped forgetting he has a guest at the house. Or well, a new resident? Kydas is definitely staying throughout the winter but after that... Isaac isn't sure. They'll talk about it later. For now, though, he gets up and starts getting dressed. He'd taken to actually washing is clothes, in the past few days. Kydas keeps himself  _clean_. If Isaac didn't know better, he'd assume that he was an aristocrat or from some noble family. 

But it's not just Kydas keeps clean. In the week and a half that he's stayed, he's already tidied up most of the house, sans Isaac's bedroom and the attic. He's pretty sure the basement has been left alone, but he doesn't go down there all that often anyway.

Rubbing at his stump - the damn thing is hurting again, fuck it's going to be a bad day - Isaac lumbers out to the main area. Kydas is cooking food, but looks up when he comes out. "It's a bit late."

He glances over to the window, frowning. Yeah, definitely a bad day. Instead of answering, Isaac grunts and sits down, trying to ignore the feeling of long-gone ghost fingers. He knows they're not there. Still.

He sighs, and looks up when Kydas sets a mug and a plate in front of him. Fuck, okay, yeah, he definitely needed coffee. "Thanks." 

"You look like shit," Kydas says as he sits down, the furs spilling off his shoulders. Isaac quickly averts his gaze from a bare chest and shakes his head as he focuses more on his food. He briefly thinks back to the other guys in the army and thinks about how Pa wrote back after his confession letter. No, those days are.. long gone.

"I feel like shit. I think a storm's coming." Icarae sets his fork down, looking at the half-empty plate. He doesn't feel all that hungry. Not with how tired he is, and how much his arm is hurting. "Everything's winterized already, but we gotta stock the feed and prepare the coop, save up on water barrels and..."

Kydas stands, already finished. Isaac wonders if he even tastes the food, with how fast he eats. "Well, we should get started then."

 

Isaac's mostly concerned about Lucy. Any blizzard that comes through means bad news and her coat isn't thick enough to brave the cold. But the town vet is gone on some trip to Rekate. Worst fucking time, but Isaac will just have to work with what he's got.

So he checks over the insulation in the barn. Kydas is out feeding the pigs. Those and the chickens are the only things Isaac wants to let him around alone. Sure, swine aren't completely harmless, but it's better than messing with the cattle and equines.

Once he's sure the insulation will be enough, he starts forking up the old hay so he can lay down new shit. No need to have dirty bedding. He'll get Kydas to do the same for the chicken coop, but the pigs probably won't let the poor man in the stall with them.

He's most of the way through cleaning the hay out when Rowan whinnies and tosses his head. Isaac glances toward the stallion, then straightens and sets the pitchfork aside as the other horses follow his behavior. A moment later, Kydas peeks in from around the door. "Everything's fed," he calls, glancing warily at the horses. "You... lost another chicken, I think."

"Fuck," Isaac mutters, but quickly tries to stay calm. The horses are already on edge; they don't need him freaking out, as well. "The fox?"

"More prints. Some feathers and blood splatters. It's recent, too."

"Right. Help me with this hay, then I'll go see." Together, the work gets done quickly. The horses, either getting used to Kydas or realizing they don't have much choice in the matter, eventually start to calm. Isaac still refuses to let Kydas into any stall.

When they're done, Kydas leads him back to the coop. As they walk he points along the ground at tracks Isaac wouldn't have noticed. The ground is frozen, leaving little room to push dirt down. But they reach the fence, and there's a new hole dug, with bits of red fur caught on the wire mess. Isaac kicks at it, cursing, looking over the group of hens pecking the ground. He'll have to round them back up and put up plastic sheeting around the run... Shaking his head and deciding that the storm will hopefully keep the fox at bay for a little while longer, he gestures for Kydas to follow him to the shed.

Together, they set the plastic up. Isaac wishes he'd taken initiative sooner. They still need to stock up on food for  _themselves_. He knows how bad storms get in the winter. And once the snow hits, it'll hit hard. Won't do to starve halfway through a blizzard.

When he asks Kydas if he would be able to go into town to get supplies, the man stares at him. "Isaac, I don't have any coin."

Fuck. And yeah, while Isaac likes the guy, he doesn't fully trust him. He's a great help around the barns, but they've only known each other for little over a week. "Alright, okay, let me write you down a list. Everythin' you need's in the shed, but we ain't ready for a storm."

He'd been procrastinating, and it's costing them. So they hurry the job on the chicken coop (Isaac promises himself he'll come back and look over it one last time, just to make sure it wasn't done sloppily.) and then go back to the house. Isaac jots down the list; thank god he'd gotten most of the farm ready a while ago. 

"And if that thing comes back while I'm gone," he says, standing and offering the paper to Kydas. He can see the man tense. "Just stay inside. No animal is worth a human life. Don't try to scare it off."

Something in Kydas' face twitches at that, but he nods. 

 

Rowan greets him with a snort, snuffling at his short hair as he spreads the saddle blanket on his back. "Right, Rowan, we gotta get some shit from town," he says, going to the open stall door to grab the saddle where he'd slung it over the wood. "Kydas is gonna stay here, don't worry your pretty little head. The mares will be fine, and the snow hopefully won't come 'till we get back, and..."

Hell, it's a lot to worry about. He wishes Pa was here.

Shaking his head, Isaac checks the straps of the saddle, ignoring Rowan's snort. He leaves the stallion for a moment to grab the pack bags, strapping them on his sides. "We got some shit at the house, but not enough to last us one of the normal blizzards."

Isaac keeps talking as he readies Rowan for the short trip. He'll have to be quick in town. It's already midday and he doesn't want to be out at night. Shaking off the paranoia, he leads Rowan outside the barn, and hefts himself up into the saddle. While Lucy was Ma's and the other mares Pa's, Rowan's been his horse since Isaac had been there at his birth. 

Kydas comes out of the shed as they're passing. He tries to wave through the pile of stuff in his arms and Isaac waves back, then digs his heels in. Rowan picks up the pace, hurrying down the long path to the town.

 

Hooves click on cobblestone as Isaac dismounts, holding the reata as he glances over the produce. Canned foods first. It costs a good handful of coins to get what he needs, and by the time he's putting the cans into Rowan's pack, there are clouds gathering above. He shakes his head and pulls Rowan to another stand. Matches, more oil for lamps-

"No, ain't seen no werewolves."

Isaac pauses and glances to his right, where the old fish trader is talking to some... Isaac isn't sure what to peg this new man as. He's dressed sharply, in a dark brown vest and a crisp, pale undershirt. A blue topjacket is over his arm, just barely hiding the shape of a sword at his hip. A beautiful thoroughbred mare stands at his side, snuffling at the few blades of grass sprouting through worn cobblestone. "No howling? Any animals maimed?"

"I a fish'man, boy," Craig snarls, leaning on his cane that he doesn't really need. In the summer, he fishes. In the winter, he plays on pity and begs. Old cad.

Isaac glances back at the man, nearly flinching back when his head turns toward him and his horse. He warily pays the stall vendor and puts the oil and matches in Rowan's pack. "What do they look like?"

As if Craig ceased to exist, the newcomer strides over to Isaac. He's surprisingly a couple of inches shorter, but Isaac still feels like he's being looked down on. He shifts uneasily. 

"It depends," the man says. Isaac doesn't recognize his accent; it honestly sort of reminds him of Kydas'. "Some are giant wolves. Some are an... unholy cross between beast and man. They can be upright on two legs, or on four paws."

Isaac briefly thinks back to the creature he and Kydas had seen out in the fields. His stomach sinks. "We... My friend an' I, we heard howlin' a handful of nights ago. Little over a week."

At this, the man's eyebrow rises. "Anything else?"

Something... just feels wrong about this guy. "You a Hunter?"

Lips thinning, the man extends a hand. Isaac gets a glance at dark black gloves and a tattooed wrist. His skin crawls. Sigils, inked onto the skin? This guy is serious. "My name is Everett. And yes, I am. I've heard of werewolves around here."

"Well-" Rowan snorts as Isaac clasps Everett's hand. His uneasy feeling returns. If Everett is actually a Hunter, shouldn't he feel safe? His horse doesn't seem to think so. "Name's Isaac."

Patting Rowan's shoulder to hopefully keep him calm, Isaac says, "We don't normally get wolves 'round here. But my friend, he said there was one out there. I thought it was just a fucken coyote, but he said it wasn't."

"Your friend? What is his name?"

And this is where Isaac pauses. He opens his mouth, then closes it, and then says, "Uh, Kaleb. He's new in town, but with winter comin' I figured I'd need another hand 'round the farm."

At this, Everett seems satisfied. He nods, and turns and goes on his way without so much as another word, leading his mare away to investigate some more.

Shaking chills away, Isaac quickly goes about gathering the last few supplies he might need, including going back to get more candles from the previous stall. And at the end of it, when the sun is starting to sink into the treeline, he quickly hops up on Rowan and races back home. He's hoping to rid himself of the uneasy feeling with the swift ride. But the passing fields and trees whipping by does no good for him, and neither does the wind biting at his face.

So he slows Rowan to a trot, posting in time so he doesn't bounce. It's nearing dark, with colors bleeding through the sky, when the howling starts up.

Immediately, Rowan startles, whinnying and tossing his head. Isaac whistles, trying to calm him down. He gathers the reigns tighter, trying to bring Rowan out of the sidestep. "C'mon, now, let's just get home. We'll be safe there, Row, c'mon."

An eerie stillness settles for a moment. The only noises Isaac can hear are Rowan's huffing breaths and the stomping of hooves in the gravel. He sits up in the saddle a bit, looking out over the fields, hoping to god he won't see that horrible silhouette. Everett's words come back to him, then.  _An unholy cross between beast and man._

Could it be a werewolf that he and Kydas saw? If so, why would one be down here? Should he trust Everett? Sure, the guy's a Hunter, but he probably goes to many towns because of false rumors. Maybe he's wrong. Maybe it's just some lone wolf out there, lost and separated from its pack-

A howl pierces the air. It's closer now.

Cursing, he snaps the reigns and digs his heels in, urging Rowan into a canter. It won't do to tire the horse. If they get stranded because Rowan can't keep up speed, they're dead. Werewolf or not, there's still something howling out there. And it's getting nearer.

Isaac wants to cross his fingers as he hears another howl. It sends shivers down his back, but it hasn't broken off into the strange laughter he'd heard the night he saw that beast. It's possible it's not that thing. So long as it doesn't cackle, he'll be fine. So long as it doesn't cackle...

The lights of the farmhouse finally come into view. When the howling breaks off into mad laughter, he finally has enough, pressing Rowan into a gallop. The stallion doesn't even need the urging; he's already skittish and, no matter how headstrong he can be, is still a horse. He squeals and pelts off, hooves pounding into the dirt. They rush past the house and to the barn, where Isaac quickly hops off and drags Rowan into his stall. The other horses are spooked, stomping the ground. Lucy whinnies, high and terrified. 

It's a struggle to get the tack and gear off of Rowan, but he manages to do so without getting stomped into the hay. The door to the barn suddenly opens more and Kydas hurries in, looking worried. "I saw you go past. It looked like you had hell on your heels. Are you alright?"

"That thing's out there again," Isaac says, shoving a bag into Kydas' arms. He grabs the last one and slings it over his shoulder. "Everyone locked up?"

"Yeah. Come on." Kydas lets him go first, then slides the door shut and drops the bolt down. Isaac locks the door to the house once they're inside, then goes to shut the curtains to all the windows. He freezes at one, blood draining from his face. "Kydas," he whispers, staring out at the lurching figure in the fields. Oh, hell, it had been so  _close_ to them...

Fear paralyzes him for a second. It's only when the lanterns start getting blown out does he look over to find Kydas rushing to put out all the lights. He moves low, crouched down below the window line.

"Isaac, get down. Slowly,  _slowly_ close the curtains," he whispers, holding the last lantern in his hands. He snuffs the flame, and Isaac gently closes the curtains, sliding down to the floor. He can still hear the howling and snarling, but he feels safer, now that he's out of that thing's potential line of sight. Kydas comes over to join him, still moving as quietly as he can. Isaac dares not to breathe too deeply.

For the longest time, the two of them sit there, listening to the noise. The animals are all scared to death, raising hell in their pens. But he doesn't hear any pained shrieks, so hopefully, they're all alive.

By the time the howling dies down, Isaac has gathered the courage to speak. "Is it really a wolf, Kydas?"

The man glances at him. And they both know it's not. No words need to be spoken.

But then Isaac whispers, "There was another newcomer in town today. A Hunter. He was askin' 'round about it."

Kydas visibly tenses. "What did you tell him?"

"That we heard howlin'. That's all." He doesn't tell Kydas about how offputting Everett had been. He doesn't think he needs to, by the way Kydas is more or less trembling in his furs. 

"Okay. Good." Kydas' voice is shaky. "If he... If you see him again. Don't tell him about me."

Something in Isaac's gut churns. He breathes in shakily. Maybe he'd been right not to give Everett Kydas' actual name. But at the same time... Why does it matter?

Pushing the thought away, he nods. "Don't worry. I promise I won't."

And Kydas seems... relieved.

Isaac wishes he could say the same for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, sorry for the short chapter. i'm honestly not sure how long this story is gonna be, since i only have a vague outline for events and stuff in it. but yknow. who knows.


	3. me and the devil

Snow crunches under his boots as he treads through it. It's well above his ankles at this point, having started little after sundown and just now slowing down at midday. 

The animals are all restless, squealing and crying from their barns. But he doesn't pay them any mind. What he does pay attention to are the tracks.

Kydas kneels down nearby, looking at a different part of the prints. 

Long gashes tear through the snow. There aren't any perfectly clear prints left, with more snow piling in after the thing had run around. But Isaac can see the indents where claws hit the ground, and the general... human-like shape to them. It's somewhat in the form of a paw, with heavier parts giving the illusion of paw pads. 

He looks up towards the house, not twenty feet from where he's at. Hell, it was  _here_. And it wasn't making any noise. If it had, they hadn't heard it past the blizzard-like weather.

"I think the snow kept it at bay," Kydas says after a moment, standing upright. He walks toward the barns, then stops and points. "This is as close as it got to the house. The barns..."

Isaac hurries over, his gut sinking at the scratches along the door to the horse barn. Deep gouges, as if the thing was desperate. It probably was. 

The tracks pace all around the outsides of the barn, scratches littering the walls. It didn't give up easily. Hopefully, winter will weaken it. "I hope that Hunter gets rid a' it soon."

Kydas casts a sharp glance over at him. "Nothing deserves to die at the hand of those  _things_ ," he mutters, "Hunters don't do anything other than bring people heartache."

Isaac shakes his head and decides to back away. They'd spent the night huddled in the house, hoping the werewolf wouldn't get inside. It had been... terrifying. He glances up, frowning at the snowflakes starting to get heavier. "Let's check up on the animals, then hurry and get back inside. I won't bring them out here, not with that thing still somewhere nearby."

Kydas looks up at the clouds as well, tugging his furs closer. Isaac shivers, wishing that he'd have his own fur to keep him warm. As it is, though, his old coat will do. "Let's hurry then," Kydas says, "I don't think this is going to stop for a while."

No, it probably won't. Winter always hits  _hard_ around this area. Isaac isn't sure why. They're far enough south that the winter should be mild. Yet for the past few years, it's almost as if something's been  _angry_. Hell, maybe the place is cursed. Isaac wouldn't be surprised. 

He'd hoped that the beast had given up. It didn't seem to go for the chickens, surprisingly, but the pigs...

The doors are burst open, one hanging almost off its hinges. The stench of blood instantly wafts over them and he gags, turning away for a moment from the gory sight. The pigs are all squealing, riled and terrified. One of the sows lay strewn in bits and pieces across the floor. Bones lay scattered, and most of her is just  _gone_. Kydas mutters something and steps over a hoof, bundling his furs higher and squatting down to look over the carnage. Isaac eventually walks closer, unsure of what to do with the mess. With the weather picking back up soon, and the fact that the beast got in the barn once, things aren't looking too good.

"We'll move them in with the cows," he decides. "Might be a squeeze, but we can't chance it getting into here again."

"No. We'll clean it up, and fortify. With too many animals in one space, it'll want to get in even more. We should be alright for another night or two; it'll give us time. It won't be hungry for a little while longer." Kydas takes off the furs and starts folding them, walking from the barn. He calls over his shoulder, "I'll go get supplies."

Grumbling under his breath about how it's really  _his_ farm, Isaac decides to put his faith in the traveler. He might've come across some werewolves before. He probably knows how to deal with them. "Would give anythin' for some silver, right now," he mutters, standing up and going to inspect the fences of the stalls.

 

It's gruesome work and takes them all day and a little into the night. But after the sun falls, they don't hear howling. Isaac takes it as a good sign. Like Kydas said: it won't be hungry for a few days. It'll give them time to work and prepare.

By the time the carnage is as clean as they can get it, the winds are rattling the barn's planks. The animals sound unhappy, but Isaac can't do much for them at the moment. He goes to check one last time on the others, but the moment he steps out of the horse barn, the wind makes him stagger left a handful of steps.

Cursing, he raises a hand against the sharp ice, squinting over the field and to the house. He tugs his coat as close as it can get and pulls his hood on, trudging through the knee-deep snow. Kydas joins him in the trek a moment later. 

They're practically leaning on each other by the time they get to the porch. The house blocks most of the wind, but the chill still clatters Isaac's bones. He hurries inside to light the furnace, which had dwindled throughout the day as they'd worked. "Damn snow," he mutters, cracking the spark rocks together. He glances over at Kydas, who's trying to brush clumps of frozen water from the pelts. 

"Could be worse. It is up north." Kydas shakes the pelt, batting at it with his hands. "This is mild, compared to the mountains."

"It ain't gonna get better anytime soon," Isaac grumbles, leaning down to blow on the sparks. He sighs in relief when the flames catch on the kindling and start to flicker across the logs. He gets up to go change while Kydas goes to hang his pelt over a chair at the dining table.

Once he's out of his snow-soaked clothes and into clean ones, Isaac heads back toward the kitchen to start dinner.

 

They're midway through eating when they hear the first howl.

Isaac slowly sets down his fork, casting Kydas a confused look. "I thought you said that it won't be back?"

"That's not it," Kydas says, chewing for a moment as a returning wail sounds in the far distance. "It's a pack."

"Of... regular wolves, hopefully?" Isaac doesn't think he'd be able to stand having a whole pack of  _werewolves_ around.

"Oh, yeah." Kydas takes another bite, then adds on, "Werewolves don't travel in very big packs. Usually just families, like four or five at most."

"Well that's good to- How did you know that?" He glances toward the kitchen window when the howls become louder. Why the hell are they even here? Isaac has...  _never_ seen wolves near the town. Hell, he doesn't think he's ever even  _seen_ a wolf at all. He's not sure if that thing they saw the other night could be called a wolf. 

Kydas hikes up one shoulder, the fur pelt slipping down. Isaac hesitates, then sighs and continues eating. After a long moment, he finally says what's been on his mind. "So, if you're not a hunter, then... what are you?"

At this, Kydas doesn't say anything. One of the howls breaks off into sobbing and they both look toward a window. Sighing, Isaac gets up, moving slowly as he snuffs out the lights. He goes over to the fireplace, then hesitates. Kydas is still staring out the window, eyes wide and seeming to glow despite the low light. "We'll move downstairs," Isaac whispers, "Use the furnace there."

Kydas nods, but he doesn't look away from the door. After a long moment of silence, they hear it. The animals are all squealing, terrified of whatever's nearby, and they hear the distant scratching on wood.

Once the main fire is out and they're in the dark, Isaac turns back toward the kitchen, still crouched down. "Kydas," he hisses, "Let's go."

Kydas gets up quickly, eyes moving to the door. He doesn't seem to hear Isaac, seemingly entranced with the howling notes. "Kydas!"

Then the traveler is at the front door, and swinging it wide open. 

And like that, he's gone.

Isaac sits there for a moment, dumbfounded. After a tense moment of quiet, he slowly rises to his feet, not sure if the sudden silence is a good sign or not. The howling is gone, and the animals have quieted down. Isaac tiptoes toward the kitchen, grabbing the dirty cutting knife from the sink and brandishing it like a sword. He stalks toward the door, peering his head out and looking all around. No sign of Kydas. It's like he's just  _gone_.

Swearing to himself, he ventures out onto the porch, fighting the urge to light a lamp so he could see better. Snowflakes nearly blind him, causing the world to have a gray, almost muted look. He can't see too far out, so he strains his ears to try and listen for any sort of noise.

He stands there for god knows how long before the snow lets up enough for him to see the shape in his front yard.

His immediate thought is that it's the werewolf, but that's replaced with confusion. From what he saw, the werewolf was mostly biped, and in the general, if grotesque, shape of a person. The wolf staring at him is large, far bigger than anything he could imagine. It could easily raise its nose and touch the lip of the roof over the porch. Its fur is pale greys and whites and tans, and its eyes blaze gold like the sun.

It inclines its head slightly, sides heaving as it scents the air. Spell broken, Isaac stumbles back and trips over something. He lands hard on his ass and sees the wolf's ears swivel toward him. He chances a glance down, at what he tripped over, and his heart sinks at the sight of Kydas' clothes, and the smaller fur sash, laying in a heap on the porch. "Oh, fuckin' hell," he whispers, horrified, and looks up. From this distance, he can't really see any bloodstains, but he just...  _knows_ in his heart that Kydas... Oh, _god_.

A howl resounds into the night from the west. Both Isaac and the wolf look toward the sound, and he feels sick when he sees the misshapen figure peering out of the grasses, just barely visible through the snowstorm. The werewolf. Oh, fuck.  _Fuck_.

He looks back toward the closer danger, only to find it gone. When he checks on the werewolf, it's also gone. Muttering curses under his breath that he's sure Ma would make him eat soap for, he gets on his knees and crawls forward, grabbing the smaller pelt before getting to his feet. "Kydas," he quietly shouts, trying to keep his voice low. He shouts the man's name again and slowly ventures towards the porch steps, eyes darting this way and that. He watches the ground for signs of blood, or a struggle, but doesn't find jack shit. Shivering against the cold, hoping beyond hope, he takes another hesitant step onward.

It takes balls to step off the stairs and onto the lawn. Pa's old words come back to him, then, when he'd returned home from fighting with gunpowder staining his skin grey and one hand still a bleeding stump,  _"You done good, boy, ya know you did. You still got some strength in ya, just gotta put one foot in front of the other, got it? You keep walkin', then you'll find yer runnin'."_

Shaking the thought from his head, Isaac calls his friend's name again, looking around. He can't see shit through the snow, but presses forward. Kydas is out here, too, and damn it Isaac isn't gonna just let his new friend get mauled by wolves.

He looks to his left again, calling Kydas' name, then turns around. His blood turns to slush and his knees go knocking when he sees the werewolf not a handful of meters from him, sickly yellow eyes staring right at him. Now that it's closer, Isaac can make out details. Old, rusty blood is staining its front, splattering over its face and muzzle telling of one too many kills.

But even so, it looks horribly emaciated, ribs jutting out like mountain peaks. It's covered in patches of fur, and its legs are bent awkwardly, somewhat like a human trying to imitate a dog. One of its ears is further up its head, stuck halfway, and it flicks madly. The other ear is mostly human. That's when Isaac realizes that it's  _female_. Breasts hang on its chest, and hair is growing in thin, long strands over its head, partially hiding its eyes, which are sunken low into its skull, and too small for a human. It's mouth and nose protrude, the nostrils and hard edge of its nose pressed almost flat to its face. It lurches forward, its movements looking pained, and a low growl sounds out.

Isaac can't move. His heart shudders, skipping several beats out of fear, and he has a vague thought that he hopes he'll die from a heart attack before this thing could rip him limb from limb. He feels like sobbing, and running, and screaming, all at the same time. But no matter how his mind screams at him to do  _something_ , he still can't move. His grip on the knife is lax and slowly, after a moment, it falls to the ground with a  _thud_.

The she-wolf's shoulders hike at the noise and it bends down as if trying to stand on all fours, and it  _growls_ at him again, its wolf-like ear pinning back to its skull. It shifts slightly and Isaac realizes it's going to pounce. He's surprised it hasn't already.

Then, it leaps, mangled mouth opening wide. Teeth gleam, saliva creating bridges between the long, sharp canines-

And then something slams into it, and it's knocked to the side. A horrible yelping noise sounds and Isaac stumbles back into the snow, again landing on his ass. He watches in awed horror as the wolf from before digs its teeth into the werewolf's shoulder and  _rips_ , pulling skin and fur and muscle away in one bite. The werewolf wails, something a cross between a woman's scream and a pained shriek of a dog getting hurt. 

Isaac's body finally catches up to his mind and he scrambles to his feet, forgetting the knife and booking it for the house. He turns around only once when a canine yelp sounds out, and finds that the werewolf has managed to rip deep gashes down the wolf's flank. He scrunches his eyes shut and leaps up the stairs, into the house, and slams the door shut.

He sits against it, listening to the sounds of fighting. He hears the distinct sound of flesh ripping, and that's when he tucks his head between his knees, scrunches his eyes shut, and covers his ears as best he can. If that big wolf is from the pack nearby, where are the others? Why is it and the werewolf fighting? Could it be over territory or food? 

Isaac knows, with a certainty that comes from instinct, that  _he_ is food. Is that why they're fighting? They both want to be the one to eat him alive? Fuck,  _fuck_ , he doesn't know what to do. Isaac swallows thickly and finds himself wishing he'd brought the Hunter back to the farm if only to give them some added protection. Surely, Everett would have been able to easily take down both of those monsters.

But he shakes his head, knowing that's a futile hope. That son of a bitch is probably sound asleep in bed, in the coziest room the inn has to offer.  

The sounds of battle grow closer, snarling and yelping and thuds that could shake the ground if Isaac was close enough. And then, utter silence.

A long, mournful howl pierces the air. The hairs on Isaac's neck prickle and gooseflesh rise all along his arms and legs. For a long few moments, the only sounds he can hear are his heavy, terrified breaths. He knows that the victor probably will want a snack. He knows he's exactly that.

And then, there's a knock on the door.

It's so out of place that Isaac startles and shuffles away from the door, staring up at it with wide eyes. A few long seconds pass, then there's another knock. More frantic, but weaker. Isaac gets to his feet, and cautiously opens the door a crack.

Kydas stands there, blood staining his face, amber eyes still blazing like suns. "Hey," he croaks as Isaac fully opens the door. And then Kydas pitches forward into a heap on the floor.


	4. said the thief to the moon

["i'll extinguish your light soon."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WoQPIPTbBX0)

* * *

* * *

 

The firelight flickers over Kydas' form. Isaac grunts as he sits down against the couch, making sure not to look over at him. The pelt is flung over his body, covering most of the wounds. There are a few cuts on his face, and bruises blossom in patches over his skin. All in all, it  _looks_ grisly, but Isaac has seen much worse. A bit of bed rest and a few bags of frozen peas for the swelling, and Kydas will be fine.

Well.  _Kydas_ will be fine, but Isaac certainly isn't. His new roommate - housemate? Farmhand? Whatever. - is a  _werewolf._ Full, flesh and blood, turning-into-a-several-ton-dog-thing-with-very-sharp-teeth-and-fangs, _were-creature_.

"Thank god he's just a wolf," Isaac mutters to himself. 

There's a chuckle behind him and he jumps, twisting around to watch as Kydas tilts his head to the side slightly, squinting from the light of the fire. "Well, there might be a bit of dragon on my father's side. I always thought him a snake, anyway."

"You're... kidding, right?" Hell, a buddy of his in his squad had talked about seeing a dragon once, but they'd all thought he was crazy. Isaac shifts slightly, to scoot away from Kydas, who laughs again, though he winds up coughing halfway through it. 

"God, yeah, no I'm kidding. The dragons are all dead, anyway. It's mostly just us wolves, now..." He trails off, and Isaac looks away before he really starts to analyze  _that_ expression.

The two of them sit in awkward silence for a while. Isaac starts to think Kydas had drifted off, when the traveler- the  _wolf_ says, "You aren't going to kill me, are you?"

It's supposed to sound like a statement, but something in his voice hitches at the very end. Isaac takes a deep breath. "I, uh... Lemme take a rain check on that question, buddy."

"Yeah. Alright." It sounds defiant like Kydas isn't giving up just yet. He's beat to hell and back, but still is gonna fight. Isaac... respects that. He shifts slightly so that Kydas is in the corner of his vision, eyeing the wolf. Doesn't look too wolf-like now. He just looks like some poor sod that got the shit beat out of him. But Isaac's eyes flick down to the furs, which Kydas is gently pulling his fingers through, tugging out knots, and Isaac has to remind himself of what he saw in the snow.

He glances over to the window, sighing. Kydas didn't have to go out and fight the other wolf. Hell, he could've run away with it, or turned on Isaac, or any number of things. He  _could've_ probably killed Isaac days ago, or even on the first night they'd met. But he didn't. That don't mean he wasn't just laying and wait and biding his time, though. Isaac realizes that, if Kydas  _had_ killed and eaten him, it would've been blamed on the werewolf running rampant outside. Easily blown off as an accident, a wrong-place-wrong-time kinda thing. 

But...

"You guys eat human?"

Kydas barks a laugh but ends up groaning and shutting up pretty quickly. "Heavens, no. Human blood smells horrible, probably tastes worse. I've never done anything. But people like her- Well, wolves like her? She lost her pelt. Went insane, got stuck halfway on a full-moon transformation, started running around killing anything in her way."

He slows to a stop mid-explanation and grips his pelt tightly. Must've realized that maybe he shouldn't be giving away information, without knowing if he and Isaac were on good terms or not. "Well, I... No, we don't normally eat humans. Or anything like you, really. Other wolves are obviously off the menu, humans, anything that can walk on two legs and talk. Or four, really."

"That's... good to hear." Isaac glances up at him, finally, but those amber eyes are trained out toward the window, toward the moon. Isaac looks over at the smaller pelt, which he'd hung over the back of the couch. "So what's that?"

"Hm?" Kydas follows his gaze, then reaches up and pulls the slip of fur down, to wring it around his hands. "My mother's."

Isaac waits for a beat, then settles back down when he figures he won't get any more than that. His mind drifts to other things. Emmette, the hunter. Hell, if he found out Isaac was harboring a were-creature... Shit.  _Shit_. Hell, if the  _town_ found out about Kydas, Isaac would be burned at the stake for all he knew. They were a superstitious lot, and he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them with his remaining hand tied behind his back. 

"You gotta go." It's not...  _really_ a statement or a demand, but Isaac isn't sure what else it could be. He follows up with, "Don't you?" to make it a question.

Kydas takes a deep breath, and Isaac glances at his sharp features for a moment, how the firelight casts quick shadows over half of his face. He finally looks at Isaac, and his lips pull down. "If you want me to."

It's supposed to be an open,  _I'm okay with what you decide_ , but Isaac can see the tension in his shoulders, the tightening of his grip on the pelts.

He thinks for a long, long moment, before saying, "...Maybe stay through the storm. This snow is gonna make sure none of us are gettin' anywhere anytime soon."

And Kydas gives him this soft smile. Isaac has to look away, real quick, before he says anything else, anything stupid. Another silence settles upon them, though this one is more comfortable, less strained. After a few moments, Kydas shifts into a sitting position, grunting. Isaac eyes him, trying to figure out if he'd have to stop him from getting up. But all Kydas does is pull the pillow up behind his back and lean into it.

"You ever heard of that one story?" Kydas asks, "The one about the Moon and the Hunter?"

"Can't say I have. This a wolf thing?"

At this, Kydas shrugs a shoulder, but winces and aborts the motion halfway through. He sighs and relaxes again, leaning back. "Well, I guess it is. My mother told it to me when I was little."

Isaac nods and gets to his feet, motioning for him to continue as he goes to make tea. Lighting the fire on the stove, he turns back to the living room. "So?"

Prompted to start talking again, Kydas starts, "Well, it's... a very old story. Older than the dragons. The moon, you see, is the eye of God. The stars and space, her pelt. She is wrapped around the world- Protecting it, keeping it safe, you see. Well, one man got  _greedy_."

He fills the kettle, halfway-turned to watch as Kydas gestures as he talks. He's expressive with his hands as if signing the story instead of speaking it. "He wanted the Sky's pelt, to keep it as his own,  _make_ her his own. As everyone knows, if you steal a werecreature's pelt, you... own them."

Something like a rock settles in Isaac's gut. He swallows hard, staring down at the counter. After a long pause, he looks up, waving his hand to make Kydas continue. The wolf does, after another brief pause. "So he waited until she was asleep until the moon was dark. And then he..."

He makes a gesture, reaching up with one hand, and swiping it through the air, closing his fingers into a fist. "Took her pelt."

Isaac starts bringing the teabags and cups over, then tosses a rag onto the table and sets the kettle on it. Deciding not to ask about sugar, he grabs the jar and milk and takes them over as well. Kydas is already pouring the water into the glasses. "And the world just...  _stopped_. Nothing moved, nothing seemed to breathe. The man ran with the pelt, and declared war on all other werepeople."

Sitting down heavily, Isaac takes the cup gratefully and starts letting the bags steep. "He's just one man, how did he manage to kill any werecreature? Even with the pelt, what can one man do?"

"What can one Hunter do, Isaac?" Kydas murmurs, eyes lost. He blinks and seems to come back to the present. He looks over at Isaac, amber eyes reflecting the light of the fire, turning them almost green. Isaac sits back, wondering if the wolf had managed to hide these features before, or if he just didn't notice it. Do his teeth look sharper? Ears more pointed? "Without the moon, and the stars, they could not transform. They were left defenseless. And with the Sky's pelt wrapped around his shoulders, he  _slaughtered_ them." His voice rises, and rises more so as he continues. "And the rest of the humans  _joined_ him! They murdered almost an entire race, and they couldn't even fight back-!" He cuts off with a strangled gasp, and sighs, slumping back.

Isaac shifts, noticing as he smooths his long, bony fingers over the pelt. All anger leaves him, and he shakes his head. "It was one of the last dragons that finally stole the pelt from him, and gave it back to the Sky. All hell rained down, and she cursed the man, to die alone, to never be able to feel, or love, or even mourn."

"Seems like a light punishment for such a heavy crime." Add a dash of milk, sip. Tea isn't really his things, but it's late and coffee isn't a good idea. Kydas quietly makes up his own cup, adding a large serving of sugar to it. He shrugs. "It's the way I've heard it. It's just the curse of the Hunters. To live your life, always alone, scorned by both humans and werepeople..."

Kydas shrugs again, then sighs. "I couldn't imagine it, at least. To be alone, like that. To have every relationship you ever try to make just crumble apart. Hm."

Isaac thinks for a moment, and thinks about Everett, and thinks about the horrible feeling he got when talking to the man. And he can see it, now, can see that that man probably has nobody else in his life except for his horse.

Not that Isaac is much different. He chances a glance over at Kydas and speaks before he can think too much on it. "Look," he says, "I'm not gonna pretend to understand everythin' about your kind."

"My kind?"

"But," Isaac continues, holding a hand up, "I  _would_ like you to stay here through the winter. It can't be easy, traveling around like that when there's a damned blizzard outside."

Kydas regards him with an expression Isaac can't quite place. Then he nods and takes a sip of his tea, and says, "Sounds like a deal to me."


End file.
